The in-laws were in town today. I don't actually mind my in-laws all that much. All in all they're good people. But I don't like visiting with people...period. I spend an awful lot of time with people, and for me socializing is tremendously enervating. I get wound right up; increased heart rate, excitability, all of that stuff. I'm good at socializing, and I get along with just about everyone I meet, but I find the energy that it brings out of me draining. It's for that reason that on my day off I preferred to avoid the in-laws.
So Janet took the kids and went off for the day with her mom. That left me off the leash for the day. Woo-hooooo
Where better to go, I decided, than the Off-Leash Area for dogs at Sutherland Beach. I've written about this area before. It's one of my favorite places to get away from it all in the city. There are about 10 km of trails down there. They wind up and down along the river bank and even head down to the occassional beach.
Oddly enough I've never been there on a Sunday before. On a Sunday it seems that every dog owner in the city heads to the off-leash area.
It became pretty clear pretty quick that if I were to take the trails on my bike at the usual speed I'd either chew up a few lap dogs with my tires, or have my tires chewed up by a larger beast.
That was fine by me however, as I've really been wanting to get out and do some trail running anyway.
So I found a rickety old fence to lock the bike to and I hit the ground running. Every time I came across a dog or group of dogs I had to slow down of course. If you run around near a dog you tend to ignite the dormant fires of the old predator-prey relationship, and you'll find yourself skipping high kneed away from nipping poms and pugs. The best approach is to slow down and get to know the dog before you run anywhere near him.
So one after another I met up with Poodles, Pitbulls, Pomeranians, Pugs, Rotweillers and Wolfhounds, Boxers and Schnauzers, Terriers and Retrievers, and all of them were enjoying the day with the same boundless sense of enthusiasm and freedom that I was.
I'd slow down to meet them, and the dog(s) would trot up a little warily, but generally happy. I'd reach out my hand, somewhat warily, but generally happy and let my four-legged brothers and sisters get an idea who I was. When I had an idea who they were I'd give them a scratch behind the ears and say something to them like "Beautiful day for a run isn't it?" or "I love being off-leash too!" and they'd wiggle and shake and pant and lick and jump around and then run off, and I'd run off until the next dog came around the trail.
Sometimes they chased me when I started to run and their owners scolded them the way I talk to Anderson when he pushes a stranger's kid on to the ground. "AN-DER-SON!" I'll say and these owners would be calling out "MUF-FIN!" and "SPAR-KY!" and similar doggie type names, and I'd give the dog a look like "Oh you're gonna get it."and run off down the trail smiling.
A little further in along the trails however and the dog owners disappeared and it was all leaves of yellow and red and orange and thick green undergrowth and hills and ravines.
I'm learning to love autumn. I used to hate it, because it signified for me the death of another year. But I'm learning that death really is just subjective, nothing more than a notion. Essentially nothing dies. Energy is infinite. It's never destroyed. Science and faith both demonstrate this in their own way. When a plant dies it does the circle of life thing, sinking into the ground, feeding the bugs, enriching the soil, becoming new life.
In essence, what I used to perceive as the slow death of all things every autumn, I'm now
starting to see as the first moments of next spring's birth.
It allows me to really see the beauty of the season. I hit a high point on the trail and I had to stop and soak it all in. There are few cities in this world that light up like Saskatoon does in the fall.
All along the river bank leaves were changing, all the colors of fire. The bank opposite me was a living botanical sunset. It was a raging foliacious tribute to fire, and on the water of the river it reflected and flickered like real flame dancing on quicksilver. Hence the Rio Del Fuego in the title.
Anyway, this old dog is tuckered out now. I ran until I had to stop and lay down for a bit, and then, like all the other dogs, I had to come home too. The family is back now, and I'm glad they are. I let the kids ride on my back for a bit, and had Janet scratch me behind the ears. Off leash is good once in a while. But sometimes it's the leash that gives freedome it's value.
All in all it was a damn fine day.
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